Labyrinth
by KagomeMiroku
Summary: Arthur Kirkland loves fantasy, but this wasn't exactly what he had in mind. FrUK if any pairing.
1. Chapter 1

Labyrinth

Chapter One

Word Count: 1701 Words

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Arthur Kirkland loved the thought of fantasy. Fairies, gnomes, trolls, you name it, and Arthur was bound to have a thorough description on each. Especially at the mention of goblins. Goblins, although quite grotesque looking creatures, fascinated the Englishman to no end. Of course, there was a reason to that.

No, it wasn't because of their wonderful trickery skills. In fact, it really didn't have much to do with the goblin race itself, but more or less their king. The Goblin King. He was unlike any other of their kind. Gorgeous, with bright blue eyes, curly blond hair, and a slender figure. He was, undoubtly, spawn of the gods, yet places to rule such ugly creatures. He commanded them well though. At least, that was what the books said.

His fantasy books were his life. Numerous hard-cover, fantasy books cluttered his desk and floor; along with many stuffed animals, magic ingredients, and costumes. He was so engrossed with the thought of a seperate reality, that real life hardly meant anything to him. His books, his fairytales, they could never betray him. Not like real people, the rest of them.

For the longest time, Arthur was an only child, and quite content with that. He lived with his mother and his father, both blond with green eyes, much like himself. His mother always encouraged his fantasy interest. In fact, she introduced him to it all. He loved her dearly; clearly much more than he cared for his father. And that little care for his father than he had, diminished more and more as the days past.

They were driving home from dinner one night, he was about 10 years of age, when the Kirkland's got into a car accident. His father and himself both got out-with countless injuries, but his mother didn't make it. Then, to make things worse, four years after Molly Kirkland's death, his father remarried to an Irish woman with wild red hair and bright blue eyes. From the moment he met her, Arthur knew he would never like her. He liked her even less when she popped out a little blond baby with blue eyes. The one they called "Peter."

They even had the gall to make poor Arthur watch Baby Peter.

"I'm a lot like Cinderella if you think about it."

He rested against a tree in the grass, his goblin book perched on his lap, blond hair falling in his emerald eyes. His black cape remained draped over his shoulders, his kimino style sleeves fell back when he went to flip the page.

"I clean and watch their brat for them. I do practically everything but cook for them." he continued to speak to the nothingness around him. "Only thing I don't do is cook for them, the only thing I really want to do."

But it wasn't as though Arthur could really cook in the first place.

Sighing, he looked over the words before him. Absently, each word fell from his lips in a silent chant. He did that whenever he read. Reading aloud without actually voicing it.

"You have no power over me." he muttered, a smile playing his lips as he did so.

He liked the way that line sounded, how he'd love to storm up to both his father and step-mother and just yell it to them. They had no power over him. Quite contrary to the book, with the Goblin King not having power over the young girl, Arthur wouldn't mind much being under his power. But really, Arthur didn't mind much at all in his fictional world.

Looking up at the grey sky through the foliage overhead, he decided it was best to put that book of his away. Obviously, it was readying to rain. The thick scent of water clung in the air, and he loved every second of it. But he wouldn't love his goblin book to get wet and torn from the rain though. So he placed it back in his messenger back and stood, stretching, and wiped the grass that clung to his cape and pantlegs.

In the midst of stretching, he caught glimpse of his watch. His large eyebrows raised. "Bloody hell, I'm late!"

He gathered his belongings and ran in the direction of home, inwardly smirking on just how pissed off his step-mother would be when he walked in, soaking wet and a half-hour late. Good. He hoped the table she and his father reserved for dinner was given away to a couple more deserving of it. His gaurdian's could then go stop at a local fast food resturant instead of the fancy place father originally planned.

His run broke to a nice, even stroll. His head fell back, letting the downpour soak his smiling face. Blond hair turned to a darker, brown-ish shade, and he spun in his cape-halfway down the street from his home.

"Arthur! Arthur!" Evil step-mother yelled from the porch.

Cracking an eye open, he looked down to see her, hands at her hips, looking terribly unnerved. It made him grin.

"Sorry." he apologized, hopping up the porch steps. "I lost track of time."

"Lost track of time, lost track of time. You do realize your a half-hour late." she rushed him inside, prying the cape off his back. "And you're soaked."

"Well then, I don't believe you ever considered once that you were interfering with my plans, did you?" asked Arthur, narrowing his eyes as he walked towards the steps.

"We assumed you didn't have any. You never really do." she frowned slightly, leaning against the railing. "Your father and I would love it if you hung with people your own age. If you had a date. A nice, pretty girl would sure to have caught your eye by now right?"

He snorted. "Whatever."

"Oh good, Arthur, you're home." his father walked down the steps, holding baby Peter, who was wailing ungodly, in his arms.

Instead of replying, Arthur brushed past him and walked to his room, hearing his step-mother and father talk in some sort of mutter. Whatever they were saying really didn't concern him, even if it really did. Honestly, what teen wanted to sit in on a Saturday night and watch their half-brother, while they could be very well outside playing in the rain.

At least Peter would be asleep soon enough.

He heard the front door slam.

Falling on his bed, Arthur looked around at his cluttered room and gave a weak smile. This was the only part of his house that was actually home. He had his fantasy books, his costumes, his shelves full of knick-knacks and music boxes and his favorite stuffed ani-

"THAT BRAT!"

Jumping up abruptly, after realizing something was out of place, he rushed out of his room and into the next bedroom, seeing Peter in his crib with exactly what Arthur was missing. It was a green, plush, creature with wings, the only color he didn't have double on. His favorite one. And it was in the grubby little hands of that brat half-brother of his.

"Do you think it right to be stealing other peoples things?" asked Arthur, snatching it back.

Instantly, the baby started crying. His round cheeks pulling down to a frown, his wide blue eyes closing with tears streaking his face. He fell down onto the mattress, crying loud as he possibly could.

Groaning, Arthur threw the winged creature on the bed and went to pick the baby up. "It's by fault of your own, you realize, why you're crying."

He bobbed him up and down a bit, holding the boy in his arms and sighing. The crying went on.

"Nothing gives you, or anyone else, right to enter my room. My room is MINE. Not yours. Not your dirty mother's. Nor our good-for-nothing father's. Is that understood?" He looked down at the baby who just kept crying. "You don't even understand me, do you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

That didn't work.

"Ugh! Shame the goblins aren't here, in'it? He continued trying to soothe the baby with his actions. "They could sweep you away in a matter of seconds, you know. Take you off my hands. Make me free. Really, it's a right shame they can't take me instead."

He continued pacing the room with the baby in his arms.

"In the book, they take her brother. The should take my brother. To the castle just beyond through the tricky labyrinth and just beyond the Goblin City. You'd like that wouldn't you?" He looked down at the baby who continued to cry. "Insufferable little brat, of course you wouldn't. Then you wouldn't be able to pester me senseless."

Rocking the baby in his arms, he wondered if there was an off switch somewhere. That would make his life so much easier. But alas, there wasn't. What was he to do? And where were the goblins when you needed them.

"Goblin King, Goblin King," he chanted, looking up at the ceiling, holding the baby up. "Take this child away from me!"

When that only increased the yelling, Arthur decided it best to just give up. He placed Peter back in the crib and walked over the reach his green plushie.

"It's not use." he muttered. "Bloody wanker..."

He walked to the door and opened it, deciding he'd need an aspirin after that, and shut the light off. "I wish the Goblin King would come and take you away." he grumbled, taking one last glimpse at the crying baby. "Right now."

Walking back down the hall, he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Thanking whatever higher being made that kid finally stop crying.

Wait...

Turning around, he glanced back at the door. "Er...Peter?" He took a step forward, and opened the door.

It was dead silent, and something was moving around in the crib.

"Peter?"

Something was definitly up.


	2. Chapter 2

Labyrinth

Chapter Two

Word Count: 1495

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"Peter, I mean really."

Arthur took a step into the darkness, and reached for the switch. Power was out. Nothing unusual, right? The storm much have been too much, he could fix it when he went down the basement. All after he checked on Peter, of course.

It wasn't really as though Arthur ever liked Peter. He cried, he drooled, and did other baby things. He was cute, he'd give him that, but overall he was really just another pain for Arthur to handle. And that was why Arthur was so worried this moment. Peter was his responsibility ever since the adults had left the house. He was in charge, and if something bad happened to the baby, something bad would surely happen to him.

Beneath the baby blue blanket in the crib, something moved.

"Peter?"

Strange cackling sounds echoed from the shadows, clicking hung from under Peter's blanket.

Thunder and lightning controlled the outside, booming loud and lighting bright. Flinching slighly, the Englishman made his way to the crib and placed both hands on the wooden bars. He watched the blanket rustle, wondering if Peter was alright. Hoping to God it wasn't a seisure, he pulled the blanket back to reveal and empty crib.

"Peter?!"

The thunder cracked louder, the lightning beamed brightere, and the rain berrated against the windows. Things were moving around him, Arthur could tell, but he didn't quite know what.

He wasn't as frightened as his actions made him out to be. And the only reason he grabbed his father's bat was self defense, to use on whoever broke into the house and kidnapped Peter. It was true, Arthur was a bit paranoid, but how could a robber be in so many places at once.

Unless there were more than one.

"W'ho's there?" he foolishly called out into the darkness. Shadows of figures running danced across the walls. "Hello?"

Something hit against the window, causing Arthur to jump. A snowy white owl continued to flap it's wings against the glass, having Arthur's green eyes go wide. Why was the beautiful creature out in that nasty weather to begin with? -And why did it look so familiar to him?

Behind him, objects crashed, and as he turned to see what had fallen, or who caused it, the large windows flew open.

All went still.

The rain stopped abruptly, as did the thunder and lightning. Behind the translucent curtains, Arthur saw a figure. Unsure of whether his eyes were deceiving him, he squinted to get a better look.

Perhaps, he was imagining things. If he turned back around, Peter would be fast asleep in his crib, and Arthur would be standing there looking much like an idiot. The large, glass windows would be shut, and the power would flicker back on. No sweat.

But no, that wouldn't happen. Arthur knew that. Someone kidnapped his brother, and he would have to do everything in his power to get him back -despite how he may have felt about the whining brat.

The being that stood on the balcony took a few slow steps into the bedroom. Arthur's eyes grazed this man with awe, want. His curly blond hair was pulled back in a lose ponytail, with a few strandes falling in his face. His black and gold ensamble was tight and accentuated all the right areas, with his cape billowing dramatically behind him. On his lips, played a coy smile, and his crystal blue eyes danced in amusement at the awestruck boy before him.

"Ah, bonjour, Arthur." the man greeted with a suave French accent. He leaned casually against the doorframe, and gave a slight giggle at the boy's loss for words. "I am correct to assume you are aware of who I am, oui?"

The Brit stared, shamelessly allowing his eyes to roam over this unearthly being. He felt blood rush to his face, and snapped out of that trance immediately, scolding himself. Yes, he knew exactly who this man was, he just didn't know if he could believe it.

"Y-you're the Goblin King." His mouth somehow uttered these words without his mind's consent. He mentally cursed for stuttering, sounding so unintilligent; he spoke the last line with conviction, "Francis Bonnefoy."

"Oui." the Goblin King, Francis, took a step towards Arthur, who seemed frozen in his tracks. "I am flattered you know my name. I am also sure you know why I am here?"

"To save me, I hope."

Francis chuckled, lifting the boy's chin. "Save you, mon cher?" he tilted his head. "Oui, I shall save you."

"So you'll take me to your castle then?" Arthur asked, admiring the king's features.

He looked so feminine in a manly way, if that made sense. He was beautiful, far more gorgeous than Arthur could have ever imagined. The poetic words from the book did this man no justice. He was a god.

"Non," Francis replied, stroking the younger man's cheek. "My people took your brother though. Perhaps you should run along back to your world and pretend this never happened. Sounds good, non?"

"What? No." Arthur frowned, eyes narrowing. "Take me with you. Let me help you rule your kingdom. I could control the goblins quite easily. I'm sure you need some sort of assistance."

"Mm~ Mon cheri, you asked of me to come take the child, and so I did." Francis spoke, grinning as the boy shy'd away from his touch. "By midnight he will be one of us. Now, I suggest you run along."

Unfair. It was unfair. Why could Peter get all the fun? Why did he get to live amoungst the goblins, with the Goblin King (who turned out to be more of a frog than Arthur would have thought)? He simply wouldn't have that.

"Give the child back then." Arthur spoke defiantly. There was no way he would allow _Peter_ that fun. No way in hell.

"You're being selfish, mon amour." Francis pulled the younger blond in close, and stroked his hair. "I did this for you."

"Well, I want it undone." Arthur pushed him. "Give me back the child."

"Tell you what," Francis folded his arms. "If you make it to my kingdom, through my labyrinth. the baby shall be yours."

"I could figure your Labyrinth with ease." he spoked haughtily. "I'll have him back faster thank you can say "God Save The Queen"."

"Ah, mon cher~ I wasn't finished. And if you don't complete it, you must go on with your life as though this ever happened. I keep the child."

Glaring, Arthur contemplated that. Why didn't the king want _him_? Whatever, he wasn't quite sure he even wanted the King anymore anyway. Honestly, it wasn't as though he was even that gorgeous, or as if his accent made Arthur swoon. No, he was just a jerk-just as Arthus should have suspected.

"Deal."

Francis smiled. "Good."

Instantly, the setting changed. No longer were they inside Arthur's parent's bedroom, but on rocks with an orange-under-purple sky surrounding them. To their left resided a vast nothingness that went on as far as the eye could see. To the right, resided large stone walls. The outskirts of the most confusing creation to ever exist, King Francis' Labyrinth.

"You're honestly up for this?" asked Francis, wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist from behind, and resting his chin on his shoulder. "It's awful dangerous."

Arthur shrugged him off. "Bloody frog," he straightened himself out. "I was born to conquer this labyrinth, of course I am ready."

"Turn back now, Arthur, before it's too late."

"No," he stared at the stone walls. "No way that brat gets what I want."

"Ah, so be it, cheri." Francis kissed his cheek, then stepped back, and chuckled. "You have until the hour after midnight~ Good luck."

Arthur placed his hand to his cheek, and looked back to see that Francis was no longer there. Nodding, he trekked off the rocks, and towards the stone wall, the Labyrinth.

"It won't be that hard." he mummbled to himself. "I've got plenty of time."

xOx

From the castle, Francis grinned, baby Peter resting in his arms, goblins in chaos scattered around them. He watched Arthur walk on through his crystal ball that rested in his free hand.

"Oh, this shall be fun~"


End file.
